The Mandrake Leaf
by Iridescence-xx
Summary: "Part of the process of becoming an Animagus requires you to carry a leaf from a Mandrake in your mouth for an entire month."


"Part of the process of becoming an Animagus requires you to carry a leaf from a Mandrake in your mouth for an entire month."

They really hadn't thought this through. Well okay, they had, and there seemed to be no way around it.

"I don't see how this fucking necessary!" grumbled Sirius. "How the hell did the first Animagus figure out they needed to do this anyway? Fucking weirdo."

James hummed softly in agreement with his friend. It _was_ such a random thing to do and seemed totally out of context. Seriously, what did a mandrake leaf have to do with becoming an Animagus? Not to mention how bloody awkward it was – they had only been trying for a couple of days so far and they kept accidently swallowing it or spitting it out or whatever, not to mention that rank taste that was a constant presence now. It certainly wasn't helping that any time one of them fucked up, the others had to restart too, but they had decided; they would do this together and no one would be left behind. As it was, none of the three boys were looking forward to going back to their classes the next day, how the hell were they going to cope if they had to talk in class and stuff? It was Peter that was the one to pick up on the other reason their returning to class would be bad.

"Bloody hell, forgettin' that. How we going to hide this from McGonagall?" he grouched. There was silence for a second before he looked up at Sirius' and James' faces, it was obvious they hadn't even considered that yet. Sirius drew a breath.

"Ah, fuck."

The next few weeks passed pretty tentatively for the boys. They were quieter all round and weren't getting up to nearly as much mischief but at least they were making progress with their leaves, though not without a pretty huge number of restarts – luckily they hadn't had any major fuck ups where they had been caught. Who knew how hard it was to not swallow? They were currently at a run of eight whole days without need for a restart, their longest yet and the teachers and other students had begun to become concerned over their lack of usual antics but the boys were just happy no one knew what they were up to.

Well, no one as far as they knew.

As the last of her class traipsed out of the door, Professor McGonagall sighed and rubbed the bridge of her nose. She really thought those boys would have given up by now but honestly, she should have known they wouldn't allow themselves to be beaten so soon; their loyalty to their friend Lupin was too strong and their pig-headed determination was legendary in the school. _Stupid, loyal, brilliant_ boys. It really hadn't been difficult to figure out what they were up to, not once she had realised that it was a mandrake leaf each of them had. The fact that they had gotten this far without a tutor was nothing short of genius and she knew it, but the process only became more difficult, more dangerous, as it went on. She really should stop them, she kept thinking, though she knew she never would. It hurt her heart to see Lupin, an innocent child, around the full moon. He struggled so much and it never ceased to amaze her the strength he had found in James, Sirius and Peter. Such unlikely friends they seemed; the Black child she had been sure would immediately go in to Slytherin with the rest of his family but had surprised not only her but a huge portion of the school and then quickly charmed all he came in contact with with his roguish ways; the rambunctious Potter boy who was so easily likeable and a fiendish troublemaker to boot; and lastly the shy Pettigrew boy, more brilliant than he usually let anyone else see, quiet and unassuming in public but seeming to shine when he was alone with his friends. Then there was Lupin himself, generally quiet and rational in his thinking, but a lover of mischief just as much as the rest of them, if not slightly better at hiding it. It hadn't escaped her notice that most of the book work for their pranks and games was done by Potter and Lupin while Black and Pettigrew seemed to excel at the creation of their ideas. Together, the four made it seem as if they could do anything, conquer anything.

No, she'd never be able to live with herself if they had to give up on becoming Animagi because of her… But neither could she allow them to go any further without _some_ kind of guidance. Normally, the age limit set for being able to become an Animagus made sense to her, but in this case it was nothing more than a huge obstacle and meant that she could neither seek out a proper suitable teacher for them nor actively instruct them herself. But Minerva McGonagall was nothing if not resourceful, and there were other ways…

If Professor McGonagall's teaching schedule for the year had been altered slightly so that information on Animagi was being taught _now_ rather than at the end of the year, she would never admit it. And if the lectures just happened to be more in depth than they usually would for this class level, and the homework and essays on the subject seemed to be a slightly heavier workload than usual, well she would just shrug and explain that she was simply preparing them for the level of work that would be expected from them in the future.

If she mentioned the name of a book available in the library that contained specific instructions on how to deal with the mandrake leaf – how not to accidently swallow it or spit it out; how to eat and brush your teeth with it in; how to deal with the quite frankly _rank_ taste; and lastly any possible side effects that may occur from accidental swallowing and how to deal with them – or of any other good reference books on Animagi that may or may not happen to reside in the Restricted Section of the library, it was just total coincidence.

And if _in_ one those oh-so-helpful but Restricted books, there happened to be an unobtrusive and unsigned note with the name of a book that Hogwarts doesn't even have at all within its' library and if that book just happened to be the diary of a well known Animagus and focuses on the documentation of their learning and transformation process, then she knows nothing about it. Nothing at all. Perhaps whoever wrote it had hoped that some young, resourceful, trouble-making children would seek it out during their next holidays, and possibly even sneak it into the Castle with them when they returned. But Professor McGonagall wouldn't know.

If she happens to make reference occasionally during class to a 'notice-me-not' charm they'll learn in two years, it's certainly not because she's hoping anyone will have the audacity to learn it early and then possibly use it to help not draw attention to the fact that they are doing something suspicious, like say, oh, carrying a leaf in their mouth.

If she intervenes more often as the Marauders' Head of House if she just so coincidentally comes across them with or in trouble with another teacher, it's certainly not because she's attempting to minimise the time they spend up close to other adults, lest they catch on to something suspicious.

If the boys' coming inevitable detentions seem to be together rather than apart or with Professor McGonagall more often than usual, it's not because she wants to expose them to a specific helpful passage in a book, or help her with her with her notes on Animagi for older classes, or give them access to some rare ingredients they may need – along with the chance to unobtrusively pocket some. No, it's because they're cheeky and trouble-makers with a tendency to act up. She's only giving them what they deserve.

And finally it all seemed to be over. The boys came back to class after one weekend, even more drained than usual and she only had to take one look at them, their proud and exhausted grins, their happy and relaxed postures and the soft grateful smile on Lupin's face as he gazed wondrously on his friends, to know they had finally succeeded. It was over.

Minerva never knew not teaching could be so much effort.


End file.
